


A Choice Not His To Make

by Jane_Lu



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Bad Ending (Detroit: Become Human), M/M, Mutual Pining, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-10-15 12:54:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17529113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jane_Lu/pseuds/Jane_Lu
Summary: Hank should have known. It had been too easy for Connor to break free of his programming, to become the turning point of the android revolution. He should have known that CyberLife would never let Connor go.





	A Choice Not His To Make

**Author's Note:**

> This was mostly inspired by a chat on how if Connor becomes deviant leader, is friends with Hank and chooses to fight Amanda's control, there was a high probability that Hank saw Connor commit suicide on TV. You have been warned.
> 
> I also find it strange that Hank was absent after the CyberLife Tower incident. The conversation he must have had with Connor afterwards should not have been omitted, so creative liberties were taken here.

 

The gunshot echoed across the high ceilings and vast expanse of sub-level 49 in CyberLife Tower.

 

Hank had aimed true. The other Connor crumpled to the ground, forehead leaking blue blood and an expression of shock frozen on his face. That little shit deserved it, pretending to be his partner and manipulating the immense relief that overwhelmed Hank when he thought Connor had survived the raid before pulling a gun on him.

 

But he couldn’t help the shiver that ran down his back as he turned his attention back to his real partner, looking every bit identical to the Connor he had just shot. Hank could have just as easily ended the Connor he knew. Though with its uncanny accuracy in answering his questions, the other Connor must have every memory of the real one. In a way he was also the real Connor, if what’s real was defined solely by unique memories and experiences.

 

Fucking hell. The tense showdown must have rattled Hank more than he thought, to be debating existentialism at this very moment. His actual partner was much more expressive than that apathetic tin can, and now rushed over to Hank with what looked like panic coloring his eyes.

 

“Hank, are you injured? I never expected CyberLife would involve you … you have nothing to do with any of this.” Connor’s voice actually shook slightly.

 

“I’m okay, thanks to you.” Hank allowed himself to heave a sigh that washed away most of his lingering adrenaline, “You’re the one they were really targeting, so get a move on with awakening those androids.”

 

“Targeting… the other RK800’s presence does indicate that my arrival was expected. If CyberLife knew I would come here at this exact location and time, then—”

 

“Yep, so hurry the fuck up before they unleash their private army on us.”

 

The awakening met no further complications. Even Hank had to put aside his growing unease and anxiety to marvel at the hundreds of formerly inactive androids stir row by row, and then turning in unison to touch the shoulders of those behind them as overlapping chants of “Wake up” filled the space. It was a moment of history in the making, all made possible by a machine, originally designed to hunt his own kind without mercy, now choosing to create a better future for his people.

 

Connor had come a long way from who he was before.

 

“I sent a message to everyone to head for the cargo elevator and exit from the loading dock. We’ll be heading to the Hart Plaza recall center to back North up.” Connor stated.

 

“That’s across the river, isn’t it? Better get going now if we hope to make it there in time."

 

A disapproving frown crossed his partner’s face, “Not you, Hank. It might become dangerous. I received information that the U.S. army is also converging on where she is, and it’s likely they would not distinguish between humans and androids if they start shooting.”

 

“And I’m not leaving you alone out there!” Hank said loudly. The fuck he would, not when he managed to reunite with his partner, whom he had been thinking about nonstop since they parted at the station, and especially not in the moment when Connor could use any support. 

 

“Hank, please—”

 

“You’re not going alone, and that’s fucking final!”

 

“And possibly lead you to your death again? Please listen to reason!” Connor pleaded, “I don’t know if I can prevent you from harm. You could have died just ten minutes ago, and I’m not taking that risk!"

 

“And I’m not letting you risk yourself either. They shot Markus and his sit-in androids! They will open fire! They’re gonna gun you all down! At least they won’t start spraying bullets if there’s a human—”

 

Hank stopped himself as he realized he had raised his voice to a shout. A couple of nearby androids glanced at him with curiosity before continuing their way, and Connor wore a look of bewildered surprise.

 

Hank realized the folly of his outburst almost immediately. He would be holding Connor back if he went along, who he realized took his safety more seriously than his mission. When the other Connor had threatened Hank, his partner backed off without another word, and probably would have surrendered if Hank hadn’t rushed his kidnapper. Connor _would_ be constantly worried if Hank went along to the recycling centers. He was going to make costly decisions because of Hank, which could prove fatal if he went along.

 

What a fucking irony. Hank released deep sigh and shook his head. A week ago he would have gladly seen Detroit’s androids being rounded up and recycled. Would his colleagues at the DPD look at him now. If someone told him that he would be willing to go to the front lines of a revolution on the androids’ side, he would have told them that’s bullshit.

 

Then Connor came into his life, more stubborn than any android Hank had encountered and somehow uniquely capable of independent thought. Hank resented him for this at first, but what did he know, the fucking android grew on him in the end. He had always been there, a persistent but supportive presence who forcibly dragged Hank from his self-imposed cycle of depression, for which Hank was grateful for. Hank had to admit that it had been a very long time since he had come to enjoy another’s company. 

 

“Look, you’re my partner,” Hank said with some resignation, “You saved my ass enough times already. At least let me stay with you until these guys are ready to leave."

 

Connor didn’t reply, but his features softened noticeably. He extended a hand to Hank, an offer instead of another attempt to rebuff him.

 

Hank took it. It was the least he could do now, and he was well aware of that. Connor’s hand shivered minutely in his grasp.

 

They joined the awakened androids, who were filing into the cargo elevator in evenly-spaced rows. When they exited the loading dock, the androids lined up again, waiting for the rest to make their way to the surface. No one stopped them, which roused Hank’s uneasiness once more. But Connor didn’t seem to dwell too much on this, and soon Hank left it at the back of his mind. It was strange thing to be here at this moment, his partner at his side not for investigative work, but for leading a large group of androids in the hope to change their city for the better. The unified crunch of feet in the freshly fallen snow felt unreal, as well as the unnatural silence that no human crowd was capable of.

 

Hank looked at Connor again, who wore a blank look that could have appeared natural to anyone else. But not Hank. He knew that Connor had slowly acquired little nuances to his expressions, and that his brows were furrowed more than usual and his face tense. Connor was now worried, like any human would in his situation, possibly marching to his end.

 

He wanted to say something, anything really to his partner, but what does one say in scenario like this one? Wish him luck? Offer advice? Ask Connor what the hell happened for him to go from deviant hunting to turning against his creators? The last one definitely was a good option, but Hank couldn't bring himself to do it. Hell, he didn't even know whether tonight would end in utter disaster for Detroit, for both humans and androids. The prospect seemed too vast to understand, let alone to even begin talking about.

 

How did Connor end up in the center of this? It seemed months ago when he hunted deviants without mercy. Hank never imagined that Connor had the capability to choose otherwise. But Connor did, small decision by small decision, in saving Hank, in sparing the Tracis, in expressing his gratitude for their partnership and so much more. He had gradually become as close as a person he could be, and one that he, dare he say it, greatly admired and respected.

 

Hank would not let Connor go towards his death, perhaps now permanent now that he was acting against CyberLife. Hank wanted to to persuade Connor to leave with him and let the androids at fight it out themselves. Connor wasn't just another one of the many nameless androids who had already died. Connor was an irreplaceable presence, the reason why he could even think of leaving his wrecked life behind to do something more significant.

 

"Hank?" Connor's voice was soft, "You've been oddly quiet. Is everything all right?"

 

"Yeah yeah, I'm just... still a bit overwhelmed." Hank swallowed his roiling thoughts.

 

"I am too, I suppose. I do realize that going through a military raid, infiltrating CyberLife Tower, seeing your life threatened, grappling with my double and now marching straight into the fire zone in one night might be a little much for the average human.”

 

"You fucking what?!” Hank sputtered. He had been dismissed for the day right after he punched Perkins and went straight home. Then he watched the broadcast of the Jericho raid with his heart in his throat the entire time, hoping that Connor hadn’t been caught in the chaos. It wasn’t a surprise that he had fallen so easily into the other Connor’s trap.

 

Hank found his hand reaching for Connor. To what? Lay a hand on his shoulder? To seize his collar and berate him for making his own choices? He stopped.

 

"But for CyberLife to actually resort to kidnapping you... that is beyond reprehensible," Connor's voice began to shake, "You could have died! And I... I… could never..."

 

His partner trailed off and averted his face. Something took hold of Hank’s chest and twisted painfully. Connor showing vulnerability was new, and a surprisingly heartbreaking sight. Hank wanted to cup his chin and turn his head back, telling his partner that there was no shame in expressing himself. He wanted to say that he would never condemn Connor for his choices, that all things had turned out fine, that he had been terrified that his partner would end up with a bullet in his forehead, and that he wouldn’t have known what to do with himself if Connor _had_ died.

 

“Look, I'm all right.” He said instead, "You need to focus on what needs to be done at the moment. Just stay alert for any more attempts at sabotage."

 

"Hank, I..." Connor paused, his LED ring blinking yellow with occasional flashes of red, "I will. Thank you for your concern."

 

Hank suddenly wanted to kick something in frustration. The fuck he was doing! He didn’t know when he could speak to Connor again after this moment of respite, and now he was wasting time avoiding everything he wanted to actually say. The impending confrontation hung over their heads. There was too little time, too many unknowns, too many things Hank wanted to express but couldn’t, not even when Connor was about to leave.

 

Hank wanted to ask Connor how he had deviated. What went through that big brain of his when he decided to defy CyberLife? Did he know how much he had changed since the first day they were partnered together? Did he know how much he had changed Hank’s life? Hank owed him more than he could think. Hank wanted their partnership to continue on without the damn android revolution getting in the way.

 

But in the end, Hank couldn’t get past the stone that seemed to have lodged in his throat. The androids have stopped emerging from the elevator, and all that remained was for the rest to take their position. Hank grasped at the vanishing threads of the moment, but he had already run out of time.

 

"Be careful.” Hank managed to say. He inwardly kicked himself for his inadequate choice of words that in no way conveyed his feelings.

 

"I don't intend to fail this mission. I want to make Detroit a better place for both humans and androids.” Connor said with resolve, “It will be for Cole’s sake as well.”

 

Back then, it had been Connor’s empathy that distinguished him from his double. Hank felt his anxiety fade somewhat as he took in the fact that his android partner thought about saying something to reassure him. He knew, he knew that androids weren’t solely responsible. Hank lost his son to the city, a city that still had trouble sending out ambulances in time, where on-duty surgeons got high, where it took more than three weeks for the car wrecks to be cleared. Connor knew this, and Connor cared enough about his grief to acknowledge it before anything else.

 

“I wish I had met you sooner.” Hank said quietly.

 

Connor’s responding smile was wistful, “I would have preferred that, considering current circumstances.”

 

His hand found Hank’s again, but instead of fitting their fingers together, Connor pressed his palm against Hank’s and lifted so that their touching hands were upright. Hank raised an eyebrow at the strange gesture, though he wasn’t going to argue. Connor looked more content than he had ever seen him, his expression tender and his eyes full of warmth.

 

Hank would recall this image of his partner to keep himself together. He managed to find his car where the other Connor had forced him to abandon across the MacArthur Bridge, fortunately not vandalized, and drove back home. He did encounter a few checkpoints where he had to show his ID and police badge, and explained impatiently to the soldiers why he was outside during a curfew. Hank’s anxiousness returned as he looked at them in full armor and assault rifles. Did the androids stand a chance? Was Connor going to actually go head to head against the armed forces?

 

Had Connor crossed Detroit River yet? It would take longer if he was with such a large group. Can he rejoin with the Jericho deviants without being shot at? Fucking hell, the longer Hank spent without knowing what his partner was doing put him more on edge. He wanted to turn back and check, if not giving Connor a call to see how he was doing. Hank clutched the steering wheel tighter so he wouldn’t reach for his phone. Connor cannot afford distractions at the moment. He would have to obtain information in other means. For once he berated himself for not installing news channel access in his car.

 

Hank couldn’t remember the last time he had been in such a hurry to get home, parking his car haphazardly  before the front door, scrambling out of his seatbelt and fumbling for his keys before bursting inside. Sumo came bounding over to greet Hank eagerly, but he was already moving towards the living room to switch the TV on to the news channel.

 

“—From what we can gather, these androids are coming from the CyberLife Tower, which had thousands of machines stored in its assembly plant…”

 

The camera showed the white-clad androids marching towards the recycling center. The soldiers who were stationed there could be seen dropping their weapons and fleeing the scene. Hank could not spot Connor just yet, but he had to know what did he miss so far. He flipped through several channels before finding one that still showed what had happened twenty minutes ago.

 

Only to see a slaughter being played out between the U.S. army and the Jericho androids.

 

Hank sank to his knees in front of the screen. The footage was shaky and too zoomed-out to see close-ups faces. He could see an assortment of androids, who were not in white clothing like the ones at CyberLife Tower, fleeing from the firing soldiers. Many of them fell under the rain of bullets, their bodies joining those of several human soldiers to be strewn haphazardly. It was nothing but a war zone, here in the middle of Detroit.

 

What happened? Why had the Jericho deviants attacked? Didn’t they know that the humans would fire on them if they took the violent approach? The camera moved to show a group of bodies that had piled around one of the barricades. One of them, female, holding a flag pole that still sputtered with the sigil of Jericho, was unmistakably the deviant leader’s.

 

What was Connor walking into?! There’s no one left, no one left to provide backup to. It was all happening too fast. Hank flipped back to the live coverage, and finally spotted his partner. Connor stood on a raised platform at Hart Plaza before the thousands of CyberLife androids he had freed, with the recycling center androids joining them. There was no more gunfire to be heard or seen. A subtitle on the screen explained that the President had withdrawn the troops due to mass civilian casualty.

 

Hank couldn’t tell whether it was relief or dread that washed over him, the former because Connor no longer had to see combat with the armed forces gone, the latter because things were going so much worse  than expected. The U.S. government was going to interpret this as a terrorist attack and possibly crack down on all remaining androids, with Connor’s group as the first target. 

 

Hank swore explosively under his breath. He fully regretted not tagging along. He had to do something, get Connor to safety before someone got to him first. There was still a chance. Connor had given his all to fight for the rights of his people, a decision he made because he chose to sympathize with the androids, because he knew that Hank gradually saw humanity in all the deviants they had to apprehend, because he knew that Cole had died in a city that needed change. But Detroit was falling now, along with the androids who kept it running. There’s nothing Hank could do to save the two, but at least he could still go to his partner.

 

His partner, whom Hank was certain that he would do anything for.

 

Hank got up and moved through the house, grabbing another coat, his gun and a spare police baton. The news anchor’s constant drone made his head pound, but he couldn’t stop himself from sneaking glances at the TV. The camera had zoomed closer to Connor, so that Hank could see his face more clearly.

 

And immediately knew something was wrong.

 

Connor’s jaw was clenched and his frame stiffened, his expression tight as his temple LED spun red. Someone was commenting on how this android seemed to be taking charge of the deviant movement, but Hank couldn’t care less. Something was wrong. Something was wrong. He had to leave now—

 

Connor unfroze for a brief second to reach behind him, but his LED was still red. When he brought his arm around, he held a gun in his hand, which he placed under his own chin.

 

Hank felt a scream building up inside of his chest, but when he opened his mouth, nothing came out. He couldn’t tear his eyes away. The movement was too smooth, too determined, too wrong to see on Connor. He had stared down the barrel of his own gun too many times to count, but Connor… but Connor…

 

What the fuck was he doing?! The fuck was he thinking?! Why?!

 

_I don't intend to fail this mission._

 

The fuck he’s going to, not after all the choices he had made—

 

_I want to make Detroit a better place for both humans and androids._

 

No no no no no no no no Connor was much more much more more more than—

 

_It will be for Cole’s sake as well._

 

Connor seemed to know Hank was watching with horrified shock behind the camera. His partner's eyes seemed to look straight in his, conflicted, longing, apologetic. There was a small flash of light, and a distorted bang.

 

Hank didn’t know how long he spent on his knees in front of the TV, his cheek pressed against the carpet as Sumo howled in distress next to him. The building scream had given way to a hollow ache, as if someone had scooped out everything inside him. Hank could barely draw his next breath. He waited for the tears to come, but none stung his eyes. Instead, all the words he left unsaid to Connor jumbled chaotically in his head.

 

Now then Hank did feel himself coming apart. His last minutes with Connor came back to his memory with a vengeance, of Connor’s display of panic over Hank’s safety, of Connor’s voice shaking in vulnerability, and what he realized to be equal reluctance to part from Hank as Hank had been with him. He could still feel the gentle press of Connor’s palm against his, a final gesture expressing something that Connor had yet to learn, but Hank now knew to be the same kind of yearning he had. How could he not have seen it? Both were so glaringly clear, but Hank had been so blind.

 

He should have known, known that CyberLife would hold all the cards in the end, that Connor would never be truly his own person. Connor's choices had been only his feeble attempts to claw out his predetermined existence as CyberLife’s tool, and now they had taken even that freedom away from him.

 

Hank closed his eyes. The night had just begun, and he couldn’t understand where he would start to pick up what remained of himself to grieve.

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize if this made you cry! The idea simply refused to be left unwritten. Feel free to peruse my three other fluffy Hankcon fics to recover, or scream at me for my cruelty on Twitter at @Jane_Lu24


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